


I Trust You

by covie_hannah, tattoojude



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Bisexual Chris, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fix-It, Gay Josh, Gore, Heavy Angst, Josh Lives, M/M, Medication, Mutual Pining, Possible Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Good Karma Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schizophrenia, Supernatural Elements, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11355765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covie_hannah/pseuds/covie_hannah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattoojude/pseuds/tattoojude
Summary: Josh Washington never imagined being rescued, let alone getting back to his normal life since the Mountain Incident. But with help from Chris, he'll manage to do just fine. Well, as fine as he can get. // currently in progress of being edited and updated





	1. Chapter 1

**_“You’re a coward, Josh! That’s all you are.”_ ** _ The rest of the shed was a blur, to the point where Chris wasn’t even 100% sure that they were actually in the shed.  Everything was blurry, except for Josh’s face.  Josh’s hurt face, because even in his manic state, he could still recognize that his best friend -- the one person he cared most about in this world -- was really and truly pissed off.  And even in this strange, perverted version of events, Chris still remembered Josh’s face when he broke his heart.  And that was scarier than any monsters they’d faced on that wretched mountain.  Josh’s blue green eyes and caramel complection, his chiseled jawline, the small freckles that dusted his nose.  His broad shoulders, the cuts and bruises on his face and body.  Chris remembered everything: every scar, every word, every sharp intake of breath.  Every scream.  These images and sounds haunted him, even after they’d all been safely off the mountain.  Images of Josh’s funeral.  Images of Hannah and Beth’s funeral. Josh’s casket placed in a grave next to his sisters, with white and pink lilies scattered on the top of a dark wood casket in a delicate arrangement. Josh’s mother sobbing because the last of her children, her oldest and only son had died just like his sisters on that fucking mountain. But also, just like his sisters, his body was nowhere to be found. _

_ All empty caskets, all 3 Washington children. _

_ He heard, somewhere in the back of his mind, his best friend screaming; a broken, traumatized, and agony-filled scream. Then, his own voice echoed again. The words he’d said to Josh in the shed. The words that put a stake in his heart, and built a wall between the two of them.  “You’re a coward, Josh.  A fucking  _ **_coward_ ** _.”  _

Chris’ eyes snapped open, expecting darkness, only to be greeted by harsh flickering fluorescent lights. Those of his hospital room. As they were turned on to full brightness, Chris squinted, letting out a strained and groggy “Fuck.”

“Hey, Chris.” A rough voice said from the doorway, his hand on the light switch.  _ Mike. _

Dark hair and dark eyes that were filled with pain and agony the last time they’d crossed paths were softer now. He was no longer wearing the green coat, but donned a blue shirt that clung to him. He wore different jeans and a small black jacket. He looked like he was getting better.

 Mike’s black eye was healing nicely, and he was obviously feeling better, aside from not having a few of his fingers.  They, in turn, were bandaged up, and seemed to not be causing Mike any pain.  “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Chris’ heart rate increased slightly as he looked away from Mike and out the window that showed the dark green pines of the forest by the hospital as his friend walked closer to his bed.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’m doing alright.  My ankle doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“That’s good, dude.” Mike started, obviously not here to socialize, but to say something.  He had this look on his face.  The one Chris had seen a year ago, while he held onto a screaming and sobbing Josh, after they'd heard from Mike of Hannah and Beth’s disappearance.  

There was an awkward bit of silence, the kind of tension that felt like it would soon be palpable, and Chris decided to break it.  “Why are you here, Mike?”

Mike fumbled with his words, unsure of why he was there himself. Mike was never one to hesitate, but something here made him unsure of himself and the situation he was in.  “I, ah.  I need to talk to you about something.”

“About what, Monroe? Get on with it.” Chris exclaimed, a little frustrated.  He was tired of Mike always beating around the bush and never being straightforward with anyone. 

“About Josh.”

Chris’ voice got caught in his throat.   _ Josh.   _ Fuck, no.  He wasn't going to let himself do this.  He wasn't going to let the broken brunette boy come back into his mind when he'd had the first chance to clear his head and not feel guilty about leaving Blackwood Pines.

“What about him?” Chris snapped, really not wanting to think about Josh.  Sweet, sensitive, and mentally ill Josh.  His best friend who’d died on the mountain like his sisters. Images of Josh’s funeral flashed in his mind. The closed casket, the rain. The people sobbing, his own breakdown. “If you’ve come to tell me that they found his body, I don’t want to know.”

“They haven’t found his body.  Just let me tell you, okay?”

“Fine, what is it, Mike?”

Mike hesitated a little longer.  

“They won’t be able to find his body.  Because, well, there’s a chance he isn’t dead.”

Chris felt his heart stop in his chest.  His chest felt empty and full at the same time.  He was terrified, stunned and all around sure he was hallucinating.  “What?”

After a moment, Mike spoke again, “I’m pretty sure Josh isn’t dead.”

Chris’ head was spiralling.  “How, ah, How do you figure?”

“Well...he was alive...when I left the mines.”

Chris had to process what Mike had just said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“He was alive.  When I left the mines.” Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other, something he did when he felt guilty -- which wasn’t often.  But when he  _ did _ feel responsible for something, it was written all over his face.

Chris had to hold back the bile that rose in his throat.  He calmed himself down enough to ask Mike a question, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“And you...you didn’t try and get him out?”

“Those things were after us, Chris -- the Wendigos.” Mike started, trying to justify his actions.  “One had him in its grasp, and I just froze.” This was all news to Chris.  His best friend -- someone he would’ve given anything for -- was fucking _alive?_ And Mike, knowing that Josh was Chris’ everything, fucking _left him_ up there, and for what? So he could save himself? How could Mike do something like this -- _betray_ someone like this -- and try to call himself Chris’ _friend?_  
“Yeah, well you weren't frozen enough to not save your own ass.” Chris snapped, getting angry

“Chris, I was going to die --”  
“And so was he!” Chris yelled, finally snapping.

Mike looked seriously taken aback. Chris never yelled. And when he did, it was because he was pushed to his breaking point. He looked at his hands and paused for a moment before trying to talk Chris down.  “Now, Chris, I don’t think you’re understanding correctly--”  
“No, Michael.  I’m understanding perfectly.  Josh needed you, and you left him for dead.  You came off the mountain, knowing full well he was still alive.” After a moment of tense silence, and before Mike could speak again, a broken sob left Chris’ mouth, but he didn’t seem to register it.  He took a moment to think about this situation and tried to calm himself down.  “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“We can go back up and look for him, Chris.  Once you’re better.” Despite throwing away everything Chris had ever loved, Mike still yearned for Chris’ friendship.  He was loyal, and giving, and never backed down from defending his friends.  And Mike, a broken and seemingly unfixable man, needed someone like Chris to keep him in check. “No, Mike.  There’s no _we.  I_ will go up to the mountain and look for Josh.  And you will --”

He was cut off mid-sentence by a knock on his door, followed by seeing a figure he hadn’t met with in ages approach.  A tall man with dark hair and blue-green eyes.  Eyes identical to Josh’s.  His father, Bob Washington.

Chris sat up, all emotions from the last conversation washed away; his anxiety levels on new highs, as he waited for the older man to speak.

Bob rubbed at his face, the three-day stubble scratching his hand as he did so.  The work-a-holic movie mogul never took time out of his schedule to be with his son while he was growing up, so the fact that he was here currently confused and slightly frustrated Chris.  His eyes met with Chris’ worried but confused expression, and Bob felt mild relief to finally tell his son’s best friend the words he knew would make his day exponentially better.

“We’ve found him.”


	2. Chapter 2

Josh's mind was spinning as he struggled to stand up.  He needed to clear his mind, but nothing was working - just constant spinning.

Hannah would be back soon.  She would be back soon.  He knew she would.  Right? Right.  Right?

His heart hammered in his chest so fast he thought it was going to shoot right out of him.  His whole body ached, and his head was pounding so badly, making him feel nauseous.  He would have thrown up, but he didn't have anything else left in his stomach.  His mind reeled as he replayed the events of tonight in his mind.  Well, at least he thought it was tonight.  The tricks, although harmless, were cruel and horrible to his friends; the blood, fake bodies, video cameras, and then, the Wendigo..  they’d started attacking his friends, and he was the one to blame for it.

His _friends._ Matt, Mike, Emily, Jess, Sam, Ashley and...and _Chris._

It was no secret to himself that he'd been in love with Chris for years, since 5th grade, mind you, -- even after Chris had confessed his feelings to his best friend about liking Ashley, Josh was supportive and encouraging -- even though it killed him.   _Because that’s what you do for love, right?_

 _Josh remembered the night like it happened yesterday.  He and Chris were in Sam’s apartment, Josh’s hands on a beer bottle, Chris’ arm wrapped around the shorter man’s shoulders.  Josh was starting to get a little tipsy, but it really wasn't that terrible.  Chris, on the other hand, was drunk.  Chris, unlike most drunks, knew his limit but chose not to listen to it.  His blue eyes were glossed over slightly and his body was loose.  Josh laughed as the blonde fixed his skewed glasses on his face and smiled.  “You know, Josh,” Chris started, hiccuping slightly.  “I think Ashley is the cutest person I've ever seen,” He whispered into Josh’s ear, making the brunette squirm slightly_ .  He likes Ashley.   _His heart broke as he imagined the two of them together, kissing and holding hands -- something he'd secretly been yearning for years. Chris, on the other hand, had felt the need to hold onto Josh, and whisper the first thing that came into his mind. Damn, Ashley was cute. Not as cute as Josh, but he'd never admit that to anyone but himself._

 _Josh had to remind himself, over and over throughout the year.  When Chris would be overly friendly with him, he'd have to sometimes even remind_ Chris _of that fact that he liked Ashley. Which didn't do himself any favors if he wanted to get with the blonde, but Josh didn't feel like making a grand gesture to a very drunk Chris right now._

_“You still like Ashley, don't you?” He'd asked as they got ice cream one day._

_“Yeah, I do.” The blonde replied, licking his chocolate cone before it melted all over his hands.  “I'm thinking about taking her to prom.  What do you think?”_

I think you should go with me instead.  But that won't ever happen.  Not even in my dreams.

_“I think you should go for it.  If it'll make you happy, do it.  Hell man, take her to the bone zone.” Josh snickered, his smile not reaching his eyes._

_Chris laughed.  “The bone zone? Really, Josh?”_

_“Really, Josh?”_ A voice exclaimed, all too familiar and piercing, _Beth._ Her voice knocked Josh out of the flashback and his thoughts and into reality. _As if you could call a schizophrenic hallucination reality._ His decomposing sisters stood in front of him, their hands and arms running up and down his body, blood pouring out of their eyes and decomposing flesh flying off every time Josh tried to shove them out of the way.  “You're not real.  You're not real.” He mumbled, his eyes glossy and tear filled.  

“Crying over Christopher.  Sweet little Christopher, who you mean nothing to,” Hannah taunted, and Josh could feel his heart breaking in his chest.  It felt like this, big, empty... _something,_ growing and feeding and expanding, taking up his entire being, occupying the place where his soul should be.  “And never will.  It was all a lie, Josh.”

It felt like he was dying, or maybe like he was already dead -- but his body and his mind just continued to exist, and just...be.  It was like his sisters were torturing him, and he was feeling it, but he was watching from the outside, like they were torturing someone else.  And yet, they just kept going -- the sisters who had once cared for him, comforted him, and loved him - they kept taunting him, like they knew that he was in pain, but they either didn’t care or continued because they _wanted him to feel this._ Hannah continued, her breath hitting Josh’s neck, sending a chill up his spine.  “A lie he would have kept telling you for years,”

“You're lying!” Josh screamed, trying to get away from his sisters, but they just moved closer.

“We would never lie to you, Josh.  We would never lie to you.” Beth breathed, her arms grabbing Josh and holding him in place.  “It’s pathetic for you to think someone would actually care for a hopeless piece of garbage like you.” Her nails dug into his skin and made him bleed, thick red blood pouring from his arms.

Josh continued to scream until he was hoarse, and Beth finally released him, letting him collapse onto the ground in a fit of broken, traumatized sobs.  

In the back of his mind, Josh knew he _tried_ to keep it a secret for as long as possible, letting no one in except for himself, Sam and his sisters. but it hurt to know he'd die without letting Chris know.

Josh coughed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes.  How long had he been in this goddamned cave? Hours? Days? Weeks? He had no idea how long he'd been down here.  But he'd replayed every conversation in his mind.  Every moment with Chris.  Their last conversation had been an argument, and Chris had stopped Mike from shooting him.

Just as he was starting to calm down, and able to see straight, the voices in his head returned - _Hannah and Beth._  

“Josh,” Hannah started, her hands grabbing hold of his bloody shirt, “You didn’t save us, Josh.”

“Good-for-nothing brother,” Beth spoke as she appeared, grabbing Josh’s hair and tugging on it, making his head throb and his body convulse. “You let us die, Josh.”

It repeated, over and over until Josh got sick, dry heaving as he tried to scream -- wanting the voices to leave his head. He was unable to handle anymore of it.   They got louder and louder, the more he screamed; a constant ring over the noises coming from him.  

He collapsed in sobs, just wanting to die, and for this to be over.  He wished he would have said a longer goodbye to his parents.  Or made up with Chris before he left the shed.  Or said something kinder to Sam, and told her how nice of her it was to be so kind to Beth and Hannah.  He wished --

His train of thought was cut short when he heard it. He held his breath and listened.  The clicking and the heavy breathing of the Wendigo.  It was back, and Josh knew exactly where.  Above him, on the ceiling, defying gravity like the fucking demon it was, terrifying the living shit out of him. Not because of it being a Wendigo, but because it was Hannah.

Hannah. His sweet little sister, who haunted his nightmares and terrorized his every waking moment, was above him. Her body stretched out and elongated, her nails black and bloody, her mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and her eyes turned a glossy gray. The only reason he could differentiate between this monster above him and the others, was Hannah’s tattoo. The butterfly on her arm. He noticed the tattoo when she first drug him away from Mike. And now, she was hanging above him. Watching, and waiting.

His mind was working a million miles a minute, thinking over this situation, and how he was going to get out of it without Hannah ripping his head off of his shoulders. Damn, he wished Mike would have stayed.  He was coherent enough to know that Mike had left him stranded down here.  But he didn't even know if Mike even made it out alive.

The minutes ticked on like hours as Josh stood frozen, until Hannah heard something in the distance and skittered away. Josh allowed himself to breathe, and collapsed against the wall, his breathing ragged and harsh. “Fuck.”

Hours passed, or maybe minutes, maybe days, or weeks -- Josh couldn’t tell.   The passage of time seemed to be completely different in this hellhole he was inhabiting. He hadn’t seen sunlight since before they came up onto the mountain, and it hurt his body to walk around any further than the little patch of area he’d been in. Suddenly, over the sound of his own breathing, he heard noises.  He couldn’t tell what, or where, but he heard noises.  Familiar, yet unfamiliar.  

It was the sound of footsteps, echoing through the caverns.  Josh struggled to come to his feet, dripping with underground lake water and his own blood.  The bright light of flashlights hit his face as the group of people came into view. His first thought was of his friends, _They’d come back after all._ But then he saw a box of medical supplies and realized just how tough standing was becoming.  The group of rescuers rushed forward, and Josh’s mind went blank, his eyes rolling back into his head as he hit the floor.


End file.
